For Old Times' Sake
by kittyfantastico
Summary: --CHAPTER 5-- S3 fic. Syd and Vaughn meet unexpectedly, and begin to reminisce. Please read & review!
1. Chance Meeting

This is my first S3 fic, so I hope it's good! Fun though it was, I have finally got over my denial enough to write something set in S3.  
  
Title: For Old Times' Sake  
  
Author: Margot (aka Kittyfantastico)  
  
Timeline: Sometime around the first few eps of S3. It'll probably go a bit AU from here.  
  
Summary: Syd and Vaughn meet unexpectedly and begin to reminisce.  
  
Chapter One: Chance Meeting  
  
Her heels click on the cold floor as she walks slowly into the building she has not seen in two and a half years. That thought comes easily to her now; the adding on of two years is almost an automatic process. It hasn't always been like this. When she first came back, it was difficult to remember that so much time has passed. Now she hardly even has to think: it hasn't been a month since she was at her favourite restaurant, is has been two years and a month. Her last dentist appointment was not eight weeks ago, but two years and eight weeks ago. She's sick of the number two. Everything must have two years added on to it, and she just wishes that she could get past it. She wishes she could make new memories, ones that don't need two years added on to them. She wants to say, "I was here just last month" when she goes out somewhere. She doesn't want to notice things that are new or different. She feels like a tourist in her own city.  
  
As she looks around, she notices that this is one of the few places - perhaps the only place - that hasn't changed a bit. She brushes her hand along one of the crates and looks down at the dust that gathers on her skin, and it comforts her. She knows that it's unlikely, but she can't help believing that this place hasn't been used since she was last here. She had never missed the warehouse - it was the embodiment of everything that was horrible about her life. It meant SD-6, and her days of hiding herself from her friends. It meant the days when she and Vaughn couldn't be seen together, and though the warehouse was where they had forged the beginnings of their relationship and would always have nostalgic qualities for Sydney, the fact that she and Vaughn could be together in public had been enough to keep her from ever wishing to go there again.  
  
But now she would give anything to be transported back to the time when she came here every other day. Her life then had been complicated, and she'd had very little freedom, but it had been life with Vaughn. He's in her life now, of course, but it's not the same. Not by a long shot. Even when he was with Alice, Sydney had known that really they belonged to each other. Alice was just an obstacle to be overcome, and Sydney had never really considered the thought that they wouldn't. But Lauren is so much more than just an obstacle. She's his wife and Sydney knows that Vaughn isn't about to leave her. That alone is bad enough, but the fact that the three of them have to work together makes things a million times worse.  
  
She sits down on one of the crates - somewhere she has sat a thousand times before. She closes her eyes and pictures him standing in front of her. The image is so real that she smiles blissfully, as she watches him smile at her, his eyes communicating what his lips cannot. She opens her eyes and is shattered when she remembers that it was only a daydream. She sighs as she feels tears pricking at the back of her eyes. She forces herself not to cry; it seems that she has done nothing else since she came back. She doesn't want to think about him, because if she lets herself the tears are inevitable. And yet, at the same time, all she wants to think about is him. He's all she ever thinks about. That is, after all, the reason she came here. At home, there's always a distraction. Weiss seems to be eternally in her apartment; probably because he knows that if she's alone she'll only think about Vaughn. She wanted to be quiet for a few hours and just think, so she came to the one place that has always been a sanctuary to her. And though she never missed it until now, she is beginning to realise that this has been the most important place in her relationship with Vaughn. The most important place in her life.  
  
She knows only too well what thinking about him will do to her. But she doesn't care, because she doesn't ever want to stop thinking about him. She loves him with all her heart, and she doesn't want that feeling to stop. She knows that it will only make her unhappy, and she believes that in turn will make him unhappy but she's afraid to stop. She's afraid that if she stops loving him, there'll be nothing left.  
  
* * *  
  
His car pulls quietly into the space it always occupied. He gets out, shuts the door, and pauses before going in. He knows what this place represents, and what his going there symbolises. He knows what Lauren will think if she finds out. But he doesn't care. Because he has to be alone, and this is the first place - the only place - he has ever had the sense of peace that he needs. He stands outside for quite a while, part of him screaming at him to get back in the car and go home to his wife. His wife. Lauren. He loves her, he knows he does - so why is he here? Why was he drawn here on the way home from work? Why has this place, and everything that's happened here, been on his mind all day?  
  
He tells himself that it will just be one short visit. Just to say goodbye. Goodbye to what? To the memories he has been holding dear for the past two years. He has to let go of them because they're not his lifeline anymore. For the longest time, he had nothing left of her but these memories, but now she's alive and these faded pictures in his mind are no longer her remains. He has to say goodbye to something else as well; something far dearer to him than the memories of shared smiles and exchanged kisses. He must say goodbye to his love. Until now he has been allowed to love her. She was dead - what harm could it do to keep his feelings alive? But now she's back, and his heart has been given to another. To love Sydney. . . it isn't fair. It isn't right. It isn't fair to any of them. It's no one's fault. This is just how things turned out. But sometimes, and he knows he shouldn't, he can't help but blame Lauren  
  
And that's when he realises that, if this is anyone's fault, it's his. Because it was he who gave up, it was he who moved on. And Sydney's left to deal with the mess. It's at times when he thinks like that that he breaks down. He cries silently at night, and he suspects that Lauren knows, although she never says anything. He goes for long walks in the rain, mentally putting himself through torture over what he did to the love of his life. And then he sees what he's doing to Lauren, and puts himself though torture over that. Which only ever brings him back to Sydney again. It's a vicious circle and he has to get out of it.  
  
* * *  
  
Eventually, he forces himself to take the next step. He looks at the floor as he walks in, and doesn't notice the figure sitting on a crate, equally absorbed in staring at her shoes. As one person, they look up and meet each other's eyes. It is as if they have rehearsed this and know exactly when to raise their eyes.  
  
"Sydney," he states, his voice barely above a whisper  
  
"Vaughn," she whispers back, not knowing what else to say.  
  
There was a time when they stood and sat in the same positions, both of their minds overflowing with things they wanted to tell each other, but could not. Now, in a moment when anything they want can pass their lips, neither can think of a single thing to say.  
  
TBC. . .?  
  
What do you think? Should I continue? I've got it all planned out I'd just like to know if anyone's interested in reading more. 


	2. A Happy Coincidence

Silently, they held each other's gaze until Vaughn looked away and the spell was broken. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and looked at the floor. Without even realising it, Sydney mirrored his actions, and her own gaze was drawn to the dirt and dust that blanketed the cold floor of the same warehouse that had been a haven to her so many times in the past.   
  
Suddenly, the tense silence was broken as Vaughn spoke. "Sorry. I…I didn't know you were here."   
  
"I needed somewhere to be alone and think," she explained quietly. "Weiss has been great, but he wants me to stop dwelling on the past and to get on with my life. I know he's only trying to help, but I'm not ready for that yet. I just need to sort things out in my head, you know?"   
  
"I know," he nodded, understanding only too well what she meant. He too had things he needed to think about. "If you want…to be alone, I'll leave."   
  
"No," she said in a shaky voice. A voice inside her told her that it wasn't a good idea; she needed to start distancing herself from him or she'd never get over him, but she couldn't resist asking him to stay, and the words had left her mouth before she had time to stop them. "I want you to stay."   
  
"Okay," he agreed, knowing in that instant that he would probably always agree to everything she asked him to do. He sat down next to her on the crate, and an amiable silence descended over them, all the weight and discomfort of the previous silence gone completely.   
  
After a while, she turned to him. "Do you come here often?"   
  
"This is my first visit in a long time," was his response, which he made while continuing to stare straight ahead. Somehow it was easier to recall the painful time following her death if he didn't look at her. "When I thought you'd died…I was out of the country for a while. I just couldn't bear to be in the same city you'd lived in, the city we'd enjoyed together. It seemed like there was a memory of you haunting everywhere I went." Tears filled his eyes as he spoke, and Sydney instinctively covered his hand with hers to comfort him. A spark of electricity shot through her arm and touched every nerve in her body, and she immediately retracted her hand, murmuring something about static electricity, though they both knew that the tiny fireworks exploding inside them were caused by something else entirely. "When I came back, this was the first place I came," Vaughn continued. "Being back in L.A. overwhelmed me and I came here to think about you, and to let you know that I hadn't forgotten. I cried for hours that first night. After that, I came every day for a while. Then gradually, it became once a week, then once a month. When Lauren and I got married I stopped coming. The last time I was here was the morning of our wedding."   
  
Sydney looked at him, tears clouding her own eyes as he unveiled the depth of the grief he had suffered. She felt both awed and saddened. She could never stand t see him hurt, or upset, and the thought that her supposed death had caused him so much pain was torture to her. But on the other hand, she was amazed by the strength of his love for her, and the way his life had been violently shattered when she disappeared.   
  
"This is my first time here, too. I mean, the first time since… before," she said, wondering exactly what had brought them here at the same time, when neither had been to the warehouse recently.   
  
"What a coincidence," mused Vaughn, as if he had read her mind. He threw her the first genuinely happy smile of the evening and she replied with a smile of her own, not at all surprised that he had known what she was thinking. They always had had a strong connection, after all.   
  
"You think?" she asked, curious as to what he thought about all of this.   
  
"Sure, why not?" was his nonchalant reply.   
  
"Of all the places in L.A., of all the times we could go…. and we both end up here. Together," she continued her train of thought aloud, talking to herself rather than to him.   
  
"But we both came here for a specific purpose, a purpose that only this place would do for," he countered, while he remembered many similar conversations in the past. They had often discussed their unique relationship, and whether or not they had been brought together by fate, or sheer luck. Sydney had always leaned towards the idea of fate, whereas Vaughn, the Scully to her Mulder, had his money on luck.   
  
"Whatever," she waved her hand dismissively in his general direction, having forgotten all about the fact that they were no longer together. "Once is a coincidence, twice is fate."   
  
"Ah, our first happy coincidence." Vaughn, too, was enjoying their relaxed conversation, which although playful, had serious undertones that he was only too happy to discuss. Ridicule it as he might, the idea that he was fated to be with Sydney Bristow was one he loved.   
  
Sydney nodded, knowing, as she always did, exactly what he was referring to. Of all the officers in the CIA, of all the agents he could have been assigned to…   
  
_"What if I have an instinct about you?"   
  
"My guess is you don't. Have another double."   
  
"I'm not trying to play you."   
  
"We'll see."_   
  
For a moment, they were both lost in the same memory, reliving their first real conversation as if it were only a few days ago. But at the same time, they thought and felt how much had changed between them.   
  
_"I have an instinct." _   
  
"I still have an instinct about you, Syd. You're gonna be okay," he assured her quietly. He had no basis for his foundations, only what he felt in his heart to be true. Perhaps, she was right after all. Maybe such things as soulmates and fate did exist. Just as he was about to bow to her knowledge and admit that he had been wrong, she halted his thoughts with a quiet interruption.   
  
"And then I almost lost you before we'd even had a chance." A twinkle grew in her eyes, as she saw another opportunity to continue their playful banter from before. "But we were brought back together again, weren't we? Someone up there really wanted us to work together," she finished with a grin.   
  
"Yeah, you, Syd," he retorted quickly. Lauren was intelligent and funny, but the quick-witted joking he shared with Sydney was something missing from their marriage. He hadn't realised until now how much he missed it. "As I recall, we were allowed to work together again because someone was incredibly stubborn about it and threatened to withhold intel unless she got her own way. Who could that possibly have been?" By this point, they were both grinning like idiots, comfortably slipping back into their old habits and too far gone to care that, in the long run, this would only make things worse.   
  
"I have no idea," she said innocently, and blessed him with a brilliant smile that lit up her whole face and made her chocolate-brown eyes glimmer with the look of love he had seen shining there a thousand times before.   
  
_You're so beautiful._ He almost said it. Two years ago, he wouldn't have hesitated. He had loved to tell her how beautiful she was; she always either blushed and smiled, or, if she was feeling mischievous, told him jokingly that he was beautiful too. He stopped himself just in time, but she saw the second where he faltered and it brought them crashing down from their pleasant memories and denial.   
  
"Why did you come here tonight?" she asked, already knowing the answer, and internally cringing before he even gave it.   
  
"To say goodbye," he answered honestly, though not without obvious sadness.   
  
"I understand," Sydney whispered past the lump in her throat and the quickly-gathering tears that set her eyes on fire.   
  
"Syd…" he said gently. "This isn't fair on you…. or Lauren. I have to move on. So do you."   
  
"No I don't!" she replied angrily. "It's not for you to decide what I should do. It's _my_ life and if I want to spend the rest of it crying over what I could have had, then that's what I'll do."   
  
"Syd, don't be so stupid! You can't just give up like this. Don't you see that by doing so you'd be allowing the Covenant to ruin your life? I know it's hard, Sydney. And don't look at me like that," Sydney was opening her mouth to contradict him but stopped when he predicted what she would say. "Don't say that I don't know what you're going through, because I do. I had my life ruined too. You were my life, Syd, and they took you away from me. I felt like you do now, but I picked myself up and I got on with things. You _have_ to try. You can't just let them take your life like this."   
  
"They're welcome to it," she said bitterly, "because this isn't living." 


	3. Anytime

It did not take Sydney long to calm down after her outburst, but by the time she did she was already home, and though she desperately wanted to call Vaughn to apologise, she was worried that he was hurt by the way she had spoken to him, and half afraid that Lauren would answer the phone. Instead, she got herself ready for bed, though it wasn't really late, and crawled between the cool sheets. Sleep came easily to her; it always did these days. And, like every night, the last thing she saw before she slept was what had been Vaughn's side of the bed. She still could not bring herself to invade what was rightfully his space, and she seemed to sleep easier when she lay facing it, one arm usually splayed across an empty space that should be his chest.   
  
They did not see each other all the next day, though not through any avoidance on either part. Sydney spent the day with her father, trying yet again to scrape some semblance of meaning from the video clip showing her horrible murder of Lazarey. She met Weiss for lunch, and when, at length, she gave in to temptation and asked about Vaughn, he had only an unsatisfactory answer to give; he had not seen Vaughn since yesterday afternoon. Vaughn, for his part, was kept busy by Dixon all day, attending various meetings, which, to his dismay, did not require Sydney's presence, and typing up some over-due reports. He could not for the life of him think how he had let so much work pile up, but somewhere between worrying about Sydney and trying to be a good husband, it had happened.   
  
So it was with great eagerness that she made her way to the warehouse that night. Hoping against hope that Vaughn would be there, Sydney broke every traffic law in existence and several that _should_ be in existence as she sped along the roads, sighing in frustration when she got caught in traffic. The drive to the warehouse was so familiar to her that she went onto automatic pilot and allowed her mind to wander. She whiled away the dull minutes envisioning scenarios in which she apologised profusely for yelling at him, and he was so overcome with guilt at upsetting her that he took her in his arms and kissed her like she had never been kissed before and….   
  
Shaking her head, Sydney snapped herself out of it and silently reprimanded herself for letting her imagination go places she wanted only too desperately to go for real. She was going there to apologise, not to break up his marriage. However, if _Vaughn_ decided to break up his marriage…well, that was up to him and it certainly wasn't her place to persuade him not to. As she got closer to the warehouse, she began to wish she hadn't come. What if he was there? What if he wasn't? She had wanted to see him all day but now that it came to it, she was scared. She didn't want him to be angry with her, or to feel so guilty that he suggested they didn't see each other any more. She had to carry on seeing him. So if she just turned around right now, he'd never have the chance to tell her he didn't want to see her any more…   
  
_God, Sydney! Get a grip! This is Vaughn. He'd never say or do anything to hurt me. _   
  
With this stern mantra in mind, she gripped the steering wheel tighter and pulled in to her usual space. His car wasn't there. She sat in the car for a few moments, feeling utterly deflated. Eventually, she got out of the car and wandered into the warehouse, all the way trying to decide whether she was relieved, or upset that he wasn't there. She was just about to come down on the side of relieved, when she pushed open the door and saw him sitting on a crate, not two feet in front of her. He looked up at her, his eyes connecting with hers at once and immediately, the scales tipped as far as they would go in the opposite direction.   
  
"Hi," she managed weakly, before giving in to the soft smile that tugged at her lips whenever he looked at her.   
  
"Hey," he answered, the way he always had when they'd met here before, all those years ago.   
  
Without wasting a second, Sydney jumped in to her apology. "Vaughn, I'm so sorry-,"   
  
"Don't be," he cut in, gently. "It's hard for both of us. We just need to give it some time."   
  
She nodded her agreement, thankful that he hadn't requested never to see her again, though in her heart, she had never really thought he would.   
  
"So, um, where's your car?" she asked, curiosity getting the better of her, as she sat down next to him.   
  
"At home," he grinned enjoying dragging out her confusion.   
  
"Then how'd you get here?" she asked, as he had known she would.   
  
"I walked."   
  
"You walked?!" Sydney was incredulous. "All the way from your house?" She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, but his grin only widened at her disbelief. "Why?" she asked, looking at him as if he was crazy.   
  
"Last night I told Lauren that I was going to the car wash. Obviously, I couldn't say that again tonight. I go for a walk every night anyway, so it was the perfect excuse."   
  
"Oh, Vaughn…" Sydney started, shaking her head sadly, her eyes beginning to fill with guilty tears. He was lying to his wife in order to come to meet her. Even though it wasn't an arranged meeting, she knew he had only come here in the hope that she would too.   
  
"Syd, don't. I know I shouldn't lie to her like this, but what else am I supposed to do? If I told her where I was going, and why, she wouldn't understand. How could she?"   
  
"You could stop coming," Sydney said quietly. After everything she had thought on the way there, she could hardly believe it was her making this suggestion.   
  
"No. No way, Syd. No matter what you say, you need someone to talk to."   
  
"But it doesn't have to be you," she argued wearily. She did not want his marriage to be unhappy, especially not because of her, but when she was arguing against these private meetings, how could her heart be in it?   
  
"You're right, Syd. It doesn't have to be me. But I want it to be me."   
  
"I want it to be you, too," she whispered, the first of the salty tears rolling down her cheeks. She took a shaky breath before continuing. "Of course I want it to be you. It's always been you."   
  
_"I feel like I'm losing my mind!" she sobbed. "Like I don't even know who I am anymore, or what I'm doing or why I'm doing it!" She was already emotional, and the intrusive beeping of her pager pushed her over the edge. Without thinking, she hurled it into the ocean, though more than anything she wished she had hurled herself into the cruel water below.   
  
"You just threw your beeper in the Pacific."   
  
Sydney laughed in spite of the tears glistening in her eyes. With eight simple words, Vaughn had calmed her down, and had made life seem so much more bearable. "I know."   
  
"Okay, listen to me. There's something you need to know. When you first walked into my office with that stupid Bozo hair, I thought you were crazy. I actually thought you might be a crazy person. But I watched you, and I read your statement, and I've seen… I've seen how you think, I've seen how you work, I've seen how you are in this job. In this job, you see darkness. You see the worst in people, and though the jobs are different and the missions change, and the enemies have a thousand names, the one crucial thing, the one real responsibility you have is to not let your rage and your resentment and your disgust darken you. When you're at your absolute lowest, at your most depressed, just remember that you can always…you know. You have my number."   
  
Her heart beating quickly and lightly in her chest, she reached across the expanse between them and grabbed his hand. She expected him to pull away, but he didn't. And from him, she drew the strength to go on._   
  
"You've always been there for me," she said into the silence. "Even when I didn't ask you to."   
  
"I could never bear to see you in pain," he laughed quietly.   
  
"But somehow you always just knew. How do you do that?"   
  
_"How did you find me?" Despite the fact that her mind was too full of concern for Will to think of much else, she was curious as to how Vaughn knew where to come.   
  
"You told me a couple of months ago that when you feel the need to disappear, you go to the observatory. But the observatory was closed. And then I remembered you said the pier calms you down." Sydney blushed slightly as she thought of the reason why the pier calmed her down so well. "But you weren't there. And you weren't at the bluffs and the palisades either." Her eyes continued to grow wider as he spoke. She was amazed that he had remembered everything she had said in such detail, and the fact that he had made her feel needed and loved. Though he hadn't said anything, it had long been understood between them that they each felt more than should be felt between handler and asset.   
  
"You didn't really go to all those places."   
  
"Yeah, I did. And then I remembered you liked the train station too. Normal people going to their normal jobs."   
  
"I can't believe you remembered that." She did not make a show of it, but she was positively beaming inside. He had remembered every single one of their conversations word for word, it seemed. Though it was nothing less than she herself had done recently.   
  
They went on to talk about Khasinau and the documents and Sydney thought he was going to try and stop her, though he would only have been doing his job. Instead he surprised her, "If you're doing what I think you're doing, I'm in if you need me."_   
  
"I just got a feeling," he said at length, knowing that they were both thinking of the same incident. "And then I remembered all those places you mentioned."   
  
"Yeah, you're definitely a good listener. I have no idea how you remembered all those," she smiled.   
  
"You would have too."   
  
_"There's this woman, her personality like a collage I've put together from the photographs, the few memories I have, scraps of stories I've heard, the clothes of hers I've got…her books. And none of it's real. She wasn't that woman at all. She was…she was a horrible person… who killed your father." It was all she could do to keep herself together enough to tell him this when all she wanted to do was allow herself to fall to the floor and shatter into a million shards. "Vaughn, I just wanted to say…that I'm so sorry."   
  
When he had first heard the truth about Sydney's mother, he had been torn between anger at what Irina had done to his family, and concern for her daughter who would be heartbroken by this revelation. But now, there was no warring of feelings in his heart, and no arguing voices in his head. The only thing he felt was the pain of seeing Sydney breaking apart like this. So he took her in his arms and provided her what comfort he could._   
  
"And all those times you comforted me about my mom. That must have been so hard on you, Vaughn. God, how could I have been so selfish?! I was so wrapped up in my own pain that I -," she stopped when Vaughn, seeing that she was working herself up to tears again, put his arm around her shoulders and held her against him.   
  
"Syd, you have no reason to be sorry for that. Being able to comfort you consoled me more than a thousand apologies could have done."   
  
She smiled then, a radiant smile that, had he seen it, would have stayed in his memory for the remainder of the night, and sent him to sleep later with a look of bliss gracing his features. "You always say the perfect thing. Why is that?"   
  
"Because I _am_ perfect." She laughed, and swatted his arm playfully, and, having achieved his aim of cheering her up, he laughed with her.   
  
"Don't push it," she said, sitting herself upright again. The serene mood of secret-sharing and heart-felt memories dissipated and they returned to the light-hearted joking that made up the other half of all their conversations.   
  
They chatted casually for a while, until Vaughn looked at his watch and announced that he had better be going.   
  
"Thanks…for tonight, Vaughn," Sydney said, standing up and brushing the non-existent dirt from the back of her skirt.   
  
"Anytime, Sydney. I mean it. _Anytime._"   
  
They left the warehouse together. Vaughn walked Sydney to her car and closed the door once she was in. He gave her a little wave as she drove past and then turned to begin the walk home.   
  
As she drove home, Sydney was unable to wipe the smile from her face. Though she was still clinging on to every last shred of hope that Vaughn The Boyfriend would one day return to her, she was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, Vaughn The Best Friend might not be so bad either. 


	4. Allies

Hi everyone! Sorry it's been so long since I last updated this! For once I actually do have a good reason - this chapter just didn't want to end, and as a result it is over 3 times the length of my normal chapters. I hope you enjoy it!   
  
This fic is now going AU. It's set early S3, so all of S1&2 happened exactly as it was on the show, but Lauren's not evil and I'm re-writing most of the Lazarey stuff to make it fit with what I want.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*   
  
They stood together in a little cluster in the middle of the Rotunda; Sydney, Vaughn and Weiss.   
  
"You actually _said_ that?" Sydney laughed incredulously, as Weiss finished telling a story about his night out the previous night which, as Sydney and Vaughn did not fail to point out, was a night in the middle of the week when hardly anyone bothered going out to bars or clubs. But, if this latest account was anything to go by, there had been a fair few people out last night.   
  
"Sure. Why not?" Weiss was genuinely puzzled by Sydney's disbelief. He looked to Vaughn for support, but immediately rolled his eyes comically when he saw the look of amusement on Vaughn's face.   
  
"Oh, no reason," Sydney replied with an innocent smile, "just that you might have at least _considered_ being tactful when talking to this woman."   
  
"And you wonder why you're single," Vaughn chipped in, shaking his head good-naturedly at his friend. Sydney grinned at him, while Weiss chose to show his appreciation for Vaughn's sarcastic comment by muttering obscenities at him. However, his quiet remarks went unheard by Vaughn, whose heart had skipped a beat at the dazzling smile Sydney gave him and was currently smiling back at her, oblivious to everything else around them. It did not take Weiss long to notice this, and he waved his hand up and down between their faces in mock-disgust. The only effect this had was to cause Vaughn and Sydney to share another smile, this time communicating their mutual amusement at the situation and knowing that there would be plenty of time to discuss the things their previous smiles had communicated. It took them only the briefest of seconds to convey all this to each other, so Weiss hardly noticed the slight delay before they broke eye contact and turned towards him again.   
  
"That's enough of that, thank you," Weiss quipped, causing them to blush faintly, although to all appearances they were doing nothing wrong – though Weiss knew better; although he did not know exactly what the meaning of the look that passed between them was, he knew that it was more than just a friendly smile you would give to an acquaintance as you passed them in the corridor.   
  
"So, uh, you got any plans for the weekend?" Vaughn asked Weiss, wishing to divert the attention from himself and Sydney. Weiss raised his eyebrows. He _never_ had plans for any weekend when the Kings were playing. "You wanna come over and watch the game, then?"   
  
"Sure," Weiss nodded, knowing that Vaughn was only making small talk so that he would let him get away without having to hear Eric Weiss' Wise Insights On Marriage And What It Entails, namely, acting as if you are actually in love with your wife, rather than your not-as-dead-as-you-thought-she-was ex-girlfriend.   
  
"You know, it's completely typical of you two to start thinking about the weekend on a Wednesday morning," Sydney observed with a smile.   
  
"Well, we can't all be The Best Agent Who Ever Walked The Earth like you are," Weiss shot back and then took on an exaggerated philosophical look to continue, "some of us are merely ripples on an ocean of waves." Sydney gave a derisive snort at Weiss' expression, and Vaughn laughed quietly, knowing that his friend was very happy to be considered only average at his job. As Weiss had said many times during Sydney's year and a half as a double agent, to be the best you just had to work a lot harder than everyone else, a motto he had evidently adopted as his own. Their laughter faltered as a fourth person joined their group.   
  
"Lauren," Vaughn greeted warmly.   
  
"Hey Lauren," came from Weiss. Sydney was silent. She managed a weak smile, but Lauren's appearance had been an unexpected reminder of the way things were and, as well as not being prepared to see her rival in love, Sydney was still very unsure of herself whenever she was around Lauren.   
  
"Eric, Sydney, hi," Lauren said briskly, but not without feeling, before turning to her husband. "Michael, I need to talk to you."   
  
"Of course. What's the matter?" Vaughn asked, lines of worry creasing above his forehead.   
  
Lauren glanced uncertainly at Sydney and then at Weiss. "In private," she said.   
  
"Oh, okay. Sure." Vaughn sounded worried and he turned to his friends to say goodbye before he went to hear what was so confidential that even Sydney Bristow wasn't allowed to hear it. "I'll see you guys later," he said, giving Sydney a brief, but deeply meaningful, look. Sydney returned it, understanding that the casual phrase that people often used instead of goodbye held a double meaning for her. Weiss and Lauren, who were not as attuned to either Vaughn or Sydney as the two ex-lovers were to each other, caught neither the look nor any possible double entendre, and so were unaware that Sydney and Vaughn had made a plan to meet while in the presence of the two people who would disapprove of it most.   
  
Weiss did, however, catch the tiny sigh that escaped Sydney's lips as Lauren led Vaughn away to a conference room at the other side of the building. He smiled sympathetically at her, and then gestured to his desk making a disgusted face at the pile of paperwork sitting there patiently waiting to be looked at. "How does a coffee sound?" he asked, turning back to her. She laughed and shook her head at him, the universal sign that he would never change his ways but that it didn't matter because he was fine just the way he was.   
  
"Best suggestion I've heard all day," she replied with a brightness that was only partly forced. But as they headed in the direction of the cafeteria she added internally, _Well, second best._   
  
***   
  
"What is it? Has something happened?" Vaughn asked of his wife as soon as the door had clicked shut behind him.   
  
Lauren, standing a few feet in front of him and facing the other way, turned around to meet his eyes. "I was approached by Sark just now."   
  
"What? Are you okay?" Vaughn closed the space between them almost before a millisecond had passed and placed his hands on her shoulders, concern flooding into his face as he spoke.   
  
"I'm fine," Lauren replied quietly. "Just a little shaken up, that's all."   
  
Vaughn sighed with relief and then remembered what had caused his concern in the first place. "What did he want?" he asked, removing his hands and letting them drop to his sides.   
  
"He told me the identity of Lazarey's killer." Her voice was steady, despite her great uncertainty. Knowing what she did, she was almost afraid of what her husband's reaction would be and she noticed a strange look take hold of his eyes, though she could not understand what it was.   
  
"Why the hell would _Sark_ do that?" he wondered aloud.   
  
"I don't know." She wished he wouldn't drag this out, wished she could get it over with and that they could go back to almost pretending that they were almost okay with Sydney's presence in their lives. The last thing they needed was this added complication. And then suddenly she wished she could drag it out for longer, that she didn't have to tell him, that they could stop time and live in this moment forever, because even though it was uncomfortable and awkward, Lauren felt sure that it must be as blissful as The Garden of Eden compared to the way things would be when she told him of her terrible discovery. But she knew that she had to tell him; if she kept this from him and he found out from another source he would think she had done it to stop him helping Sydney, and she couldn't bear him to think that of her. Lauren was wildly jealous of Sydney and always had been, but she was not cruel or vindictive and if Sydney really did need her help, she would not hesitate to give it. But, in this case, if what Sark had told her was true – and she was nearly certain it was – then Sydney was a murderer, and Lauren would not help her escape what she deserved.   
  
"Michael, it was Sydney. I know you won't want to believe me, but it's the truth. This is evidence." And she held out an envelope in a shaking hand. He took it from her, and as she met his eyes she understood the look that had been there all along; it was fear and worry. So he had known. He had known for God knows how long and he hadn't said anything! "How long have you known?" she asked, her voice low, dangerous.   
  
"Since we were first shown that video clip. I recognised her immediately." Vaughn did not bother to open the envelope and look at what he already knew he would see; instead he put it down on the large table in the middle of the room. He did not meet her intensely focused gaze; he could not bring himself to face the look of anger and betrayal he knew to be there.   
  
"Why didn't you say anything?" Her voice rose in shrill tones of anger. "I suppose that's a stupid question, isn't it? You kept this to yourself to protect her!"   
  
Vaughn did not answer. In truth he had barely heard her. He had known for a while that the woman in that video was Sydney, but he had been successful in pushing all thoughts of it to the back of his mind, reasoning that it would be easier to act like he knew nothing about it if he really did forget. And up until now, that strategy had worked. But now that it was out in the open he was forced to think the things he had been hoping to avoid thinking by forgetting. _Does Sydney know that she killed a man in cold blood? Why hasn't she said anything to me? She wasn't there when Lauren and I were shown the video, and as far as I know she hasn't seen it. Maybe she doesn't know. Then she's unprepared for what will happen if Lauren reports this._   
  
"Michael!" Lauren's voice sliced sharply into his whirring mind, snapping him back to attention. "Are you even listening to me?" She knew he wasn't, and a feeling that she hadn't had in a long time started to materialise in her stomach, prodding at her and making her feel sick. She tried to push it back into the cage where it had been locked for the past six months, but it fought back with all its might, pulling her back to a state of mind she had not experienced since she had locked the uneasy feeling away, though she had been unable to throw away the key.   
  
_Lauren Vaughn had been married for a week when she made the discovery. The day after the wedding, she had moved into her new husband's apartment and was still finding herself having to go through a box occasionally when she wanted to find something. On this particular occasion, she was looking for a pair of shoes that she wanted to wear to a friend's house and, though her husband, being, quite possibly, the most practical man in L.A., had insisted on unpacking everything the day she moved in, Lauren had still got one or two boxes of clothes or CDs that she had not, as yet, been able to face sorting out. So it was with great frustration that she almost turned the apartment upside down in search of the shoes in question, and when she was just about to give up, remembered that she had left a box of clothes and other accessories on the shelf of the wardrobe in their bedroom.   
  
Upon inspection, it turned out that there were two identical boxes on this shelf, and because she had shoved the box she wanted up there in a rush before going to answer the phone, Lauren had no idea which box she should look in. In the end, she went for the box on the right, having nothing to go on other than the vague hope that the word "right" might bring her luck in finding the "right" box. She knew as soon as she lifted it off the shelf that it was the wrong one; it was much too light to be the box she wanted. But she took it down anyway, curiosity getting the better of her. She carried it to the bed and then set it down, debating whether or not she should open it.   
  
There was no dust on the top flaps, suggesting that it had been put up there very recently. Perhaps it was some unneeded items that had been stowed away to make some room for her own things. She folded back the flaps of the box, and pushed her hair back behind her ears so that she could see what was in it. The first item she pulled out was an envelope with a single word on the front of it: Sydney. Lauren started to feel sick then, and wished that she had not taken the box down. This was obviously something she was not meant to see. But despite all this, she could not stop herself from lifting the unsealed flap of the envelope – she told herself she would not have done it if the envelope had been sealed – and pulled out a single sheet of paper. Feeling like a schoolgirl finding an exam paper and looking at the questions before an important exam, she started to read._   
  
_

Sydney,  
I am writing this in case anything happens to me while I am away on the op in Prague. It's a dangerous mission, and for that reason, I'm glad that you're not involved. I'm sure I will tell you all of this in person before I leave, but I wanted you to have it in writing, so that you never doubt my love for you.   
  
I have loved you almost since the first moment I saw you, though in the beginning we had our differences, but even then I knew what an honour it was to work with you. Working alongside you is something I have been incredibly lucky to experience. But more than that, you have been my friend, a source of comfort in a time of need, and a beautiful sunflower in what is typically a dark existence.   
  
Sometimes I still find it hard to believe that someone who I love so much returns my feelings to exactly the same degree, but every moment I spend with you convinces me that it's true. Thank you, Sydney. Thank you for loving me and allowing me to love you. I know we haven't said the words out loud yet, but I can't bear to think that I might die without you knowing that I think them every second of every day. Our love is strong, yet our relationship sometimes seems fragile, as if we're both too scared to completely commit to it for fear that it will shatter and only one of us will be left to pick up and treasure the broken pieces.   
  
So if I don't say this in person to you, know that I mean it: I love you, Sydney Bristow.   
  
Always yours,   
Michael Vaughn

_   
  
_With a trembling hand, she put the letter back into its envelope and back into the box. She felt sicker than ever now, knowing that this letter had, until this week, been kept out somewhere in the apartment. She wondered if he had read it often. Obviously, the mission it was written before had gone well, because, as her marriage testified, he was still alive and well. She started to think about his relationship with Sydney, and wondered if he had ever got up the courage to tell her that he loved her. He had never told her much about Sydney, only her name and a few details about their professional relationship. But Lauren had heard plenty from other sources; Sydney Bristow was beautiful, brave, highly intelligent and wonderfully kind, everyone who met her loved her instantly and of all the stars on the CIA wall, Sydney was one of the most sorely missed.   
  
Though the rational part of her brain was screaming at her to stop, Lauren was unable to prevent herself from delving into the box again and drawing out an item wrapped in tissue paper. Carefully she peeled back the rustly paper and stared down at the antique silver photo frame in her hand. The beautiful frame encased a picture of a little girl, who Lauren knew to be a younger Sydney, and a smiling woman who looked to be her adoring mother. Lauren wondered briefly why her husband had this picture, which was evidently one of the only items salvaged from Sydney's burnt apartment, and why it hadn't been given to Jack. Suddenly she was startled by a noise in the kitchen, and guiltily jumped to her feet, panicking about how she would explain things to Michael if he came into the room. But it was only a piece of paper falling from the fridge, and Lauren sighed with relief when she realised that. She looked down at the photo frame in her hand, and at the box open on the bed, and it suddenly struck her what she was doing. She quickly put the frame back into the box, and the box back on the shelf where it had been before. Still feeling queasy, and very ashamed of herself for prying into Michael's old relationship like that, she remembered that she would be late for dinner with her friend.   
  
All through dinner and late into the night she felt uneasy about the box she had found. She thought of the photograph of Sydney and Michael, still in an immaculate frame on the bedside table on Michael's side of the bed. Why did he still keep the relics of his lost love out in the open even though he was now married to another woman? Was he still in love with her? She told herself not to be stupid, that he was perfectly entitled to keep photographs and reminders of a girlfriend who had been ripped from his life by Death's cruel hand. But still the thoughts tore at her mind, the faint sickness now turned to an excruciating gnawing at her insides. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to force sleep to come, but all she saw was Sydney's face from the photograph smiling at her, her eyes sparkling merrily because Michael – her Michael - was holding the camera. As sleep brushed its soft fingers over her, Lauren's vision of Sydney began to change: her joyful smile was taunting, her eyes sparkled not with love, but malice, and she whispered words of hatred in Lauren's ear.   
  
"You read the letter," Sydney hissed. "You read my letter. You think he won't find out, but he will. I'll tell him. And he'll listen to me. You know that, don't you? He always listens to me. Who do you think he'll trust more? The love of his life or you, his frightened little wife, who's too scared to tell him she doesn't like the picture he sees before he sleeps."   
  
Lauren awoke the next morning looking pale and washed-out as a result of her restless sleep, and still she could not shake the feeling of discomfort that had taken residence inside her._   
  
"Sorry, Lauren. What was that?" Vaughn finally snapped out of his thoughts, not realising that she had been equally lost in memories and had not spoken for a good few minutes.   
  
"Nothing. It doesn't matter," she brushed him off, still trying to dislodge the terrible feeling that her memories had only wedged deeper into her insides. He looked at her strangely for a second, wondering why she had been so angry a few minutes ago and now didn't want to talk about what was bothering her. It was so unlike Lauren to be guarded of her feelings; usually she would talk to him about anything and everything that was on her mind.   
  
"What are you going to do about this?" he asked, gesturing towards the envelope on the desk.   
  
"I'm going to give them to Lindsey," she replied firmly, much to his surprise. He had expected her to at least try to think of a way to get past this. "I didn't come to you for advice, Michael. I just thought you should know."   
  
"Lauren, think about what you're doing," he began rationally, trying to keep calm, knowing that was the only way to win his wife round.   
  
"I'm doing my job."   
  
"But what if that's not Sydney?! What if she didn't kill him?" He was getting desperate now, if there was even the tiniest hope that Sydney was innocent, he would make sure that she did not suffer for this.   
  
"That's a distant hope. You know as well as I do that Sydney Bristow killed Lazarey!"   
  
"No, Lauren, we don't know that! For God's sake, Sark gave you those pictures!"   
  
"You said yourself that you recognised her in the video!"   
  
"I never believed it," he said quietly, after a pause, and then with more conviction, "I never believed it. Not for one second, Lauren. Syd couldn't do that. You don't know her the way I do, you don't know…" he faltered, trying to stop himself from breaking down. Sydney needed him now, he was fighting to give her a chance and he wouldn't crumble, he mustn't let those pictures get to Lindsey.   
  
"I believe you that she wouldn't willingly kill someone. I may not know her as well as anyone else around here, but from what I've seen I know she puts other people before everything else. But you have to consider the possibility that she had no choice. You don't know what they might have threatened to get her to do it, who they might have threatened," she said, giving him a pointed look.   
  
"I know what you're saying Lauren, but I'm telling you Syd did not kill that man! I just know it. I don't understand how, I just do."   
  
"Stop it!" she almost screamed, her bottled up jealousy and rage finally breaking itself loose. "Stop it!"   
  
"Stop what?" he asked, alarmed.   
  
"Stop calling her 'Syd' like that," she sobbed. "No one else calls her that. Even her own father calls her Sydney."   
  
He took a deep breath to stop himself from yelling all the things he wanted to yell at her and moved close to her, pulling her into a gentle hug. "Listen, you're obviously stressed right now, and after your encounter with Sark, I can't say I blame you. Let's just forget about this for now, okay?"   
  
"I can't," she sniffed, not failing to see through his attempt to buy Sydney some time which was blended into his genuine concern for her own happiness. "You know that I have to report this."   
  
"Lauren, please. Let me prove that Sydney didn't kill him. Just give me a little time."   
  
His gentle tone and comforting arms combined was too much for her, and she caved to his request, unable to stand the tortured look on his face for a moment longer. "Okay," she conceded. "But only two days. If you haven't proved her innocence by Friday night, I'm going to Lindsey with this."   
  
"Thank you," he whispered into her hair. "Thank you." He held her to him for a few moments, softly stroking her hair to stop the tears.   
  
***   
  
Vaughn was at the warehouse a good half hour before Sydney that night – he had raced there from work, knowing that time was very definitely of the essence. Sydney, having no such idea, took her time and stopped at home to change her clothes and get something to eat before leaving again to meet Vaughn. By the time she arrived he had had more than enough time to think about the dangerous situation Sydney was in, and thrown more than twenty plans of action out the window because they were not possible, would take too much time, would break one law too many even for them.   
  
Sydney had a bounce in her step as she entered the warehouse, sliding the gate closed behind her before turning to smile brightly at Vaughn. An afternoon in the company of Weiss had done wonders to cheer her up and she almost felt that she had not got quite so many problems in her life. Vaughn's mood was as far from Sydney's as it could possibly get, but on seeing her beautiful features lightened by her happiness the black cloud was lifted from over his head, and his eyes lit up the way they always did when she walked into a room. But Sydney was sensitive to every single change in his state of mind and the serious look on his face that had been quickly replaced by a smile did not escape her notice. Just as she had transferred some of her happiness onto him, he had transferred some of his concern and worry onto her.   
  
Before Sydney could ask what was wrong, Vaughn walked forward and enveloped her in a warm hug. It felt like an eternity since they had last been in each other's arms. Sydney sighed half with pleasure and half with sorrow at the fact that it had been so long since she had felt this way. The hug was comforting and reassuring, not hesitant and fragile-feeling, as Vaughn had suspected it might be. When they both became acutely aware that they had been wrapped in the embrace for far longer than was acceptable considering the situation, they reluctantly pulled apart. Their faces passed close to each other as they moved away and Sydney held her breath as she looked into his eyes. He was so close…just one inch more and she would feel his lips on hers once again. But she knew they mustn't, and so did he. Without breaking eye contact they moved fully apart, both smiling apologetically, a distinct look of sadness dwelling in their eyes.   
  
"Syd, there's something I need to talk to you about," Vaughn said, starting to feel uncomfortable about the conversation that he had been dreading all day.   
  
"Vaughn, what is it?" Sydney asked, alarm evident in her voice and in the rabbit-in-the-headlights expression on her face.   
  
"Did you know…" he faltered, and then tried again. "Have you seen the video clip that Lauren has been assigned to work on?"   
  
Sydney looked off to the side, down at the floor and lastly back up at him. "Lazarey," she nodded.   
  
"How long have you known?" he asked incredulously, unable to completely keep the note of anger out of his voice.   
  
"Vaughn, I wanted to tell you." She jumped in with her reply, trying to reassure him and all the time wishing that she had not kept such a secret.   
  
"So why didn't you?" he retorted bluntly.   
  
"For so many reasons…firstly, I didn't want you to be forced to keep it from Lauren, and I know that you would have if I'd told you. I just…I didn't want another complication to be added to your marriage because of me. And I was also scared – I felt like saying it out loud made it real, somehow…as if confessing what I've done makes it true, but if I don't say anything then there's a chance that it didn't actually happen." She smiled at him sadly. "I know that's stupid, and cowardly…I wanted to turn myself in, but my dad wouldn't let me. I know he's just doing what's best for me…if the NSC finds out, God knows what they'll do to me." Vaughn tensed, though he tried to hide it. "Oh God, they know, don't they? That's what you wanted to tell me."   
  
"Lauren knows, yes. But she's not going to Lindsey yet. We've got until Friday night to prove that you didn't do it."   
  
"But, Vaughn, I did!" she protested, tears pricking the back of her eyes as the panic began to set in.   
  
"How do you know that? Do you remember?" Vaughn asked, joining Sydney in her panic when he first realised that there might not be a way to prove Sydney's innocence. That there might not be a way because she might not be innocent.   
  
"No. No, I don't remember," she said in a trembling voice.   
  
Vaughn sighed with relief; at least they didn't have to rule out the option that this might be one huge mistake. When he next spoke his voice was gentle and comforting. "Sydney, you can't give up on yourself like this. Do you know, that I never doubted for one second that you're innocent in all this? We are going to find a way to show Lauren that you're not guilty of Lazarey's murder. And we're going to start right here." He took a tissue from his pocket and handed it to her. Sydney smiled gratefully at him as she dried her tears, understanding that the simple gesture was the first step for them both to start thinking more positively.   
  
_The trunk of Vaughn's car was cramped and stuffy, but Sydney was grateful for what he was doing for her, the risks he was taking to keep her safe. She struggled to change her clothes in the tiny space and soon she heard Vaughn's reassuring voice in her ear.   
  
"Are you alright?" he asked concernedly.   
  
"You didn't think about it? Not once? The possibility that Rambaldi could be right about me," she replied, while changing out of her top and replacing it with a blue velvet one that matched her trousers to make up one hideous, but disguising nonetheless, outfit. It was not meant as an answer to his question, but as something that she needed to know. She was still wondering why he was going to such lengths for her, wanting to believe that it was because of what she meant to him but not quite sure that to believe that would not be kidding herself. This was her way of testing him, finding out just how blindly devoted to her he really was. He passed the test with flying colours.   
  
"No, I didn't," he said, a little surprised that she thought he would ever believe something like that about her. It just went to show that, on the inside, Sydney Bristow was really quite insecure.   
  
"Why not?" she questioned softly, wishing that his answer would confirm the hopes that had recently filled most of her daydreams, and a fair few of her actual sleeping dreams too.   
  
He thought for a second before replying, trying to figure out how to word his feelings. In the end he went for the reply that was perhaps the most simple, yet at the same time was the one that encapsulated everything he had ever felt about Sydney. "Because I believe in you." She breathed a tiny sigh of relief, and allowed herself a small smile. He paused for the effect of his words to completely sink in, and to separate his comment from the one that followed. "Did you think I'd just throw anyone in my trunk?" Sydney laughed then, amazed that even in the worst of situations, he could still lift her spirits and make her laugh. Though she was immensely glad for the way he could brighten her mood, she could not help shaking her head slightly at his ability to make jokes even when they were in serious trouble. She hoped this was a side of him she would get to see a lot more of in the future._   
  
Vaughn grinned at Sydney, aware that they were both remembering a certain car ride, and she grinned back at him, dimples dancing in her cheeks the way they had done that day. He turned to the crate behind him and picked up a box that Sydney had not noticed sitting there when she came in.   
  
"It's not much, I know, but it's a start," he said, holding the box out to her. She took it from him and rifled quickly through its contents; stacks of papers and files with "CLASSIFIED" printed across the front of them.   
  
"Where did you get all this?" she gasped.   
  
"I took it from Dixon's office when he was at lunch." Sydney stared at him aghast for a moment, and then broke into giggles at the thought of Vaughn _breaking into_ the CIA Director's office. "Well, I'm glad you can see the funny side of this," he smirked. "Because I'm going to be in a lot of trouble when Dixon finds out."   
  
"Dixon will understand" Sydney told him softly. "Thank you." They were silent for a few seconds, neither one willing to allow reality to crash into their peaceful moment.   
  
"Well, uh, I guess we'd better get started." Vaughn finally broke the peace, tearing his eyes away from Sydney's and taking the box from her hands to put it back on the table. "Pull up a chair," he said with a smile.   
  
Together they went through file after file, sifting through every sentence in a desperate attempt to find something the CIA had missed, anything that might indicate Sydney did not kill Lazarey. After a while Sydney looked up.   
  
"Hey Vaughn, do you actually have a plan?"   
  
"Nope," he smiled, half apologetically, half jokingly. "I just figured we'd go through anything and everything we could get out hands on."   
  
"Well, it's sure as hell better than my plan," he gave her a questioning look and she explained "do nothing and wait to get caught."   
  
He smiled, and then revealed the true depth of the thought he had given to helping her. "Actually, I do have a better plan than just reading."   
  
"Oh?" she looked up eagerly and pleasantly surprised that there might still be hope.   
  
"I have a contact in Russia. I spoke to his wife earlier and she said he's out of the country on business, but he'll be back tomorrow. I think he might just be able to help us."   
  
"Good," she smiled.   
  
"Well, it's worth a try, anyway," he said modestly, shrugging, as if he hadn't really helped at all.   
  
"Don't put yourself down like that," she replied emphatically. "I'm so grateful to you for helping me like this."   
  
"I only hope I can help," he sighed. "You were always better than me in the ideas department."   
  
"Oh, I wouldn't say that," she replied with a secretive smile, which rapidly became a dimpled grin as he continued to look at her with curiosity. "You set that back door into SD-6's computer system thing in motion."   
  
"That was kind of genius, wasn't it?" he grinned, enjoying their playful conversation.   
  
"You bet it was," she grinned back.   
  
_"Vaughn, we're in."   
  
Vaughn bent to look at the computer screen over the agent's shoulder.   
  
"What's this?" demanded Sydney, confused and slightly annoyed that she obviously wasn't being kept in the loop.   
  
"This is the main reason we made the switch in Berlin." Vaughn filled her in without taking his eyes off the screen, a fact that only infuriated Sydney further.   
  
"We had Kelvin give Sloane access to a bogus website with just enough real information about the vaccine to keep them occupied for months." The agent at the computer elaborated on Vaughn's somewhat sketchy and completely unsatisfying explanation.   
  
"Is that really worth risking a man's life?" Sydney asked, raising her eyebrows at the idea that they would really do something like this.   
  
"Uh, no there's more," Weiss interjected, defending his friend's plan, since Vaughn showed no signs of defending it himself. "Once SD-6 downloads and runs the bogus program it'll give us a back door into their computer systems."   
  
"In other words, we have access to their entire network?" Sydney asked slowly, her heartbeat speeding up at this huge leap forward they had suddenly taken. "Files, contacts, accounts?" she continued as the full impact began to sink in.   
  
"This is a huge step in shutting down SD-6," Vaughn confirmed, inwardly glowing that Sydney was impressed, even though she didn't know it had been his idea.   
  
"Nice," she said, and Vaughn noticed how beautiful she looked when she was happy; something he did not get to see very often.   
  
"It was Agent Vaughn's idea," said the other agent, and Vaughn felt that he was halfway between punching him for announcing this to Sydney, a move he felt sure was done only to see if it provoked any reaction – they had not been working together for long, but already the rumours about Vaughn and Sydney were shooting from wall to wall of the CIA offices – and hugging him for ensuring that Sydney found out who she had to thank for this new development but without being told by him personally, thus avoiding any chance of her thinking that he had only done it to impress her.   
  
Sydney's breath caught slightly in her throat when she heard this, and she looked up at Vaughn slightly in awe of her handler who she had previously considered incompetent.   
  
"You look so surprised," he teased her.   
  
"No, I just –," Taking him seriously, she tried to backtrack.   
  
"Yes, it was my idea," he continued, not really offended but trying to get her to react.   
  
"Amazing idea," she told him with a genuine smile.   
  
"Thank you. I know," he joked, and gained his second victory of the day by making her laugh. Still grinning, he turned back to the computer to stop himself from gazing at Sydney like a lovesick idiot while Weiss was in the same room. That, he felt sure, would be something he would never live down._   
  
They shared a laugh over the memory, and then looked back down at their work, though it did not last for long.   
  
"Hey Syd?"   
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"I think that was just about the first nice thing you said to me."   
  
"It was not!" she retorted indignantly, before she saw the teasing look on his face and laughed. "It was right at the beginning of our friendship, though," she said contemplatively.   
  
"Yeah, it was," he murmured. "I never thought, back then, that I would ever feel like I could talk to you about anything."   
  
"I did," Sydney stated. "I knew ever since that night at the pier that no matter what, you would always listen to me. Even though I haven't shown that lately, I never forgot it."   
  
"It just shows that, even all that time ago, you knew yourself a lot better than I knew myself," he continued, and she put her pen down and clasped her hands together on the table focusing her gaze keenly on his eyes, sensing that he needed her full attention. "I mean, I knew then that I would always be there for you, and that I'd listen to anything you had to say, no matter how trivial, but I didn't think for one moment that maybe I needed you just as much as you needed me."   
  
Sydney smiled understandingly at him, and a comfortable silence descended over the warehouse as they both returned to wading through the files. When they had read through everything at least twice and done all they could do with the information, which was not much, they put the files back into the box and stood up to leave.   
  
"Sydney…" Vaughn started. She stopped with one arm in her jacket and the other one out, and looked at him inquiringly. "I still wish you'd told me about this before."   
  
"I know," she said quietly. "I wish I'd told you as well. The past few weeks have been hell without someone to talk to about it. I could have talked to my father, but I never felt right telling him what I was going through. I came close to telling you so many times, just so I could have someone to talk to about it, but then I'd just tell myself how selfish that would be. That was wrong of me. I'm sorry."   
  
"Don't be. I understand why you did it, and I don't blame you for it – you were trying to protect me. I can't say that I wouldn't have done the same. I fact, I know I would have. Just, next time…talk to me, okay?"   
  
"Well, I wasn't planning on there being a next time," she joked, but then grew serious. "Of course I'll tell you, Vaughn," she promised in a breaking voice.   
  
_Vaughn took a deep breath, willing himself to get through the next few minutes of his life without making a gigantic fool out of himself.   
  
"Listen," he began, "as far as your mother's concerned, it's ridiculous for you to worry about me. I'm fine. What she did to my father, I can handle. But when I heard what your father did, coming to see you like that, I…I realised how insane this must be for him…having your mother back in his life." Sydney watched him, wondering where he was going with his and why she could sense that he was nervous about saying this to her. He took another deep breath and sighed before continuing, his shoulders jumping up and down, giving away his tension and anxiety. "Which only concerned me because that means he's not making it any easier for you. So, before you leave for Moscow," he said, his voice dropping almost to a whisper. He swallowed nervously before carrying on again, "I just wanted to say that you might feel alone in all this, like you don't have an ally. I'm your ally. Never question that."   
  
Sydney nodded, her eyes filling with tears at his heartfelt speech. They were interrupted then, by an agent telling her that her plane was standing by, and Sydney wasn't sure whether she was grateful to him for stopping what she suspected might have ended with them crossing a line that must not be crossed, or angry at him for just that reason. Vaughn smiled at her.   
  
"I'll see you when I get back," she told him solemnly, and then smiled softly at him, telling him without speaking how much his words had meant to her. _   
  
"You're my ally," she said, as the tears began to fall. "And I'll never, ever question that." She shook her head as she spoke to emphasise the strength of what she said, and he knew that she meant it. "Our friendship means so much to me, Vaughn, just as much as...," she sighed, unable to finish her sentence. "I love you in more ways than just one," she eventually said by way of explanation, dancing around what she had been going to say before but had felt that it was still too painful to voice.   
  
Vaughn did not need to hear the words to know what she meant, because he felt the same way. "I know, Syd," he said affectionately. "You're my closest friend…don't let me ever lose sight of that, okay?"   
  
"I won't," Sydney smiled, understanding what that meant – that no matter how much their relationship as friends was threatened, she mustn't let it come to any harm. Suddenly she fully processed what he had said and grinned wickedly. "I also won't tell Weiss that I've bumped him down to second."   
  
He laughed, and pushed her towards the door, grabbing the box as he went. "Good idea. There's no telling what he might do to get back to Number One." 


	5. Anywhere

Well, I'm sure everyone must have forgotten all about this fic, because I haven't updated it in so long. The truth is, I kind of gave up on updating it here as I just got so fed up with my formatting always going wrong and all the italics and stuff getting messed up. Anyway, this site seems to have finally got it all sorted out, so I'll be updating this a lot now!

The lyrics are from _Anywhere_ by Evanescence, which is just about the most S/V song I have ever heard. It sums up their relationship in S1&2 absolutely perfectly.

Hope you enjoy this chapter – please review! :)

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Time could not pass slowly enough for Sydney on Thursday. All day long she found herself looking at the clock every few minutes and mentally calculating how much time she had left before Lauren handed the photos over to Lindsey. But Time has no regard for the wishes of its travellers, and it passed as quickly as it always did, Sydney trailing in its wake. She approached Vaughn hopefully several times, and each time was greeted with a shake of the head and an apologetic look, which was quickly averted to the floor – Vaughn felt that he had failed her, and could hardly bear to meet her disappointed gaze. But late in the afternoon, just as Sydney was thinking of giving up for the day, Vaughn came up behind her and swivelled her chair around to face him. Sydney's hopes shot up like a rocket; this was the first time he had sought her out all day, and she assumed it was because he had something to tell her.

"Good news?" she asked breathlessly, adrenaline already coursing through her system.

"Sort of," he replied vaguely. "I spoke to my contact, and he can help us."

"Well, that's good, right?" Sydney was confused.

"Yes. But there's a problem," he paused, always hating to be the bearer of bad news, especially when the bad news in question was likely to be a hammer to Sydney's hopes. "He sent me the information we need to clear you, but he sent it in an email. Obviously, it's not safe to send emails with this kind of information, so it's encoded. Your father's been trying to break the code, but so far he's made no progress. I'm so sorry, Syd."

"We still have until tomorrow night," she argued quietly, the last few grains of optimism slipping through her fingers. "I want to see the code."

"Okay," Vaughn agreed; he had known she would ask this of him, and he was hopeful that she might be able to succeed where he and Jack Bristow had not been able to.

-------------------------------------

Later that night, Vaughn and Sydney arrived at the warehouse at the same time. He waited for her while she got out of her car, and they walked in together. They didn't speak until the door was closed behind them and Vaughn had sat down in his usual place. Sydney paced back and forth across the floor, her body tense and her eyes focused on her feet. Suddenly she stopped and turned to face him, and when she looked up, he could see in her eyes the faint glimmer of tears about to fall.

"Syd..." he started softly, standing up and crossing the floor to be near her.

"Do you think he'll be able to break it? The code?" she asked quickly, before her emotions got the better of her.

"I don't know," Vaughn answered honestly. "He's doing his best, and if he can prove you're innocent, Syd, he will."

"I know," she whispered, so quietly that even she wasn't sure if she'd said it. "But we only have a day left, and I need to be prepared...in case...in case he can't. Vaughn, if we can't prove I'm innocent, I'm going to run."

As soon as she entered the warehouse, his fears were confirmed. Everything about her - from the dejected slope of her shoulders to the way she walked, the way her dark, mournful eyes looked ready to spill an ocean of tears to the way her hands hung limply at her sides – everything wailed that she was miserable. Of course, he had expected this. He had known instantly, the moment he had answered the phone in his routine brisk way; but this phone call had been anything but routine. He wished it had been routine, he wished that he hadn't picked up the phone to speak to a broken woman ordering a pizza; a woman too broken to even keep up the pretence of caring what was on it. She was supposed to care, she knew that. He knew it too. She was supposed to care, because if she didn't order the regular pizza, how would he know that this was really her, and not some impostor? But, of course, he did know. She knew that, too. She knew that he would always know, that even if she used a voice box to disguise her identity, somehow he would know then, too. He had hoped against hope that she would not truly be broken. He had feared it in the past, but she had always made it through somehow. He had always been able to help her. And every time she fell apart, he was terrified that this time, he would not be able to put her back together.

But as soon as she entered the warehouse, his fears were confirmed. All it took was one look at her, and he almost fell apart too. They had been working together for a year; it would be a year next week. He wondered briefly if she remembered. She wondered briefly if he remembered. And then she was in his arms and he was rocking her gently, stroking her hair and murmuring "Shhhh, Sydney, shhh, it's okay" at her, as if she was a small child. Eventually they pulled apart, and she pushed the remaining tears away from her face with trembling fingers.

"I'm so tired, Vaughn," she whispered. His arms felt empty without her, and they both stood awkwardly, wanting to be back in the embrace, yet knowing all the reasons why they shouldn't, and unsure of what to do instead. Vaughn gently took her by the elbow and led her to sit on a crate. He sat close beside her and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to rest against him.

"What are you tired of?" he asked, already knowing the answer, but thinking that it might help her to talk about things.

"Everything. Life. Mostly I'm tired of lying." Her voice was flat, emotionless. "I'm tired of SD-6 and the CIA, I'm tired of trying to figure out my twisted relationship with my parents. I'm just...I'm tired of this." She waved her hand around at their surroundings to show him what she meant and then let it fall back to her lap with a resounding slap.

"It will end someday," he lamely tried to reassure her.

"Well, if I could just sleep until then, that would be great," she cracked with a wry smile, despite the fact that her mood still had not lifted at all.

"That might not be so bad. You could be like one of those hibernating bears."

"Yeah, a warm furry coat, nice dark cave – no distractions to keep me awake."

"Hey, maybe I'll join you." They smiled at each other before returning to their respective states of gloom and worry. "Listen, Syd, things with your father will get better. Didn't you say yesterday that the two of you actually had a civilised conversation?"

**Dear, my love, haven't you wanted to be with me?**

**And dear, my love, haven't you longed to be free?**

**I can't keep pretending that I don't even know you**

**When at sweet night you are my own.**

"It's not just that," she sighed. "I just feel like everything's building up and this life is swallowing me. Ever since I found out about Project Christmas I've been thinking about my life, and I think...I think that we say we're fighting SD-6, and The Alliance, but maybe what I need to be fighting is my life. I know, I know, it sounds selfish, but I've been thinking about this, and there are other people who can do what I've been doing to take down SD-6. I mean, there's my father for one. I'm just sick of it, Vaughn. I'm sick of lying to my friends and worrying constantly that knowing me is putting them in danger; I'm sick of worrying that someone will see us together and that...that they'll hurt you. I'm sick of it all."

"Sydney..." he began but she cut him off.

"I want out."

**Take my hand; we're leaving here tonight,**

**There's no need to tell anyone**

**They'd only hold us down.**

**So by the morning's light,**

**We'll be halfway to anywhere**

**Where love is more than just your name.**

"What?" He pushed her back from him and held her at arms length to look at her seriously.

"You heard. I want out."

"You can't just..."

"I can! We can." Shifting her position on the crate slightly, she turned herself in his grip so that she was facing him properly and grasped his shoulders with both her hands. "Vaughn, let's get out," she suggested excitedly.

"You're serious about this," he realised slowly.

"Yeah, I am." She looked imploringly into his eyes, trying to let him know with a single glance how much she needed this, how much she needed him to come with her. "Don't you remember what you said to me, about how you wanted to be part of my life? And how you wanted to actually get to look at me?" He was impressed that she managed to recall their conversation word-for-word.

"Yeah, I remember that," he agreed softly.

"We can do those things! We can go to that hockey game, or go out for a pizza. Wouldn't you like that?"

"Of course I would. I'd love that, Syd. But what you're suggesting is incredibly dangerous. We'd be constantly looking over our shoulders, trying to keep ahead of The Alliance. The CIA would probably look for us too."

"We'd have to be careful, yes. But we'd be free." She knew that she was winning him over. He was only concerned for her safety, and she couldn't fault him for that, but she knew that her smiles and almost child-like enthusiasm was affecting him, drawing him in, allowing him to entertain the idea of running away with her.

**I have dreamt of a place for you and I,**

**No one knows who we are there.**

**All I want is to give my life from me to you,**

**I've dreamt so long, I cannot dream anymore.**

**Let's run away, I'll take you there.**

He got up and began to pace nervously, thinking. "I have family in France. I know they'd take us in for a while. We could stay with them until we've got ourselves sorted out."

Sydney shook her head and he looked at her, surprised. He had expected her to be pleased with his offer to meet his family. "That's too obvious," she explained. "They'd know to look for us there. And I don't want to put your family in any danger."

He sighed. She was right. It would probably be a long time before he could introduce her to all his family and friends; they'd have to wait until The Alliance had stopped looking for them before taking any such risks.

"How about Ireland?" Sydney suggested suddenly.

"No, no. Too conspicuous. We have to go somewhere where we can blend in. Somewhere where a new couple won't be anything out of the ordinary."

"Well, wherever we do go, we're going to need new identities, passports, bank accounts...that sort of thing."

"It's going to take a while, Syd. If we're going to do this, we're going to do it properly. You'll have to put up with SD-6 and the CIA for at least another week; I'm not taking any risks with your safety."

"You're always looking out for me," she told him with a soft smile.

"It's my job," he shrugged, trying to be noncommittal but unable to stop his mouth from forming an imitation of the smile she was giving him. She raised her eyebrows. "So what if I'm a workaholic?"

She laughed, and her laughter filled the room, dusting down the old boxes and crates that hadn't seen daylight in years and filling every crevice with the evidence of her hopefulness.

"I'll get you out of this life, Sydney," he promised her solemnly.

"Are you sure?" she asked nervously, suddenly doubting his willingness to give up everything for her. "You'd be leaving behind a lot."

**Forget this life, come with me.**

**Don't look back, you're safe now.**

**Unlock your heart, drop your guard,**

**No one's left to stop you now.**

"I'd be letting a lot go if I didn't come with you," he countered. "I think we have something. If I let you go before finding out... I think we could be really great together, and if the only way to find out for sure is to take you away from all this, then that's what I'm willing to do. And all the pretending is killing me too. I don't think I can take another one of those meetings out in public where I don't get to look at you, but instead I get to look at all the other people who do get to look at each other," he paused while she laughed lightly at his muddled sentence. "I want to be one of those other people, Syd. I want to look properly at you when we're talking, instead of stealing sideways glances and then quickly looking back to a shop window, or a newspaper. I want to see the way the sun highlights the copper-coloured strands in your hair, and the way fresh-air makes your cheeks pink. And I really want to go to that hockey game."

"Just making sure," she managed to say, although she had to force herself to think of the words and structure the three-word sentence. She knew that his little speech would be playing over and over in her mind for days. Suddenly she shook her head to clear her mind, and as if she had just woken from a dream she looked around her and then raised her wrist to glance at her watch. "Hey, I'd better be going. Francie'll wonder where I am," she said regretfully, partly because she would have enjoyed spending more time with Vaughn, and partly at the thought of Francie, who she might never see again when she and Vaughn left.

"Okay, I'll see you here after your SD-6 briefing tomorrow?"

"Yeah. See you then,"

With shared smiles, they went their separate ways; Sydney leaving to go home, Vaughn sitting back down to wait a while before leaving himself.

--------------------------------------------

"Any questions?" Vaughn asked after he finished explaining Sydney's counter-mission.

"No, it seems pretty simple," she replied.

"Well, let's just hope that nothing complicates it," he said with a smile.

"Look at my track-record, Vaughn. My missions never go wrong," she joked back.

They held their smiles for a moment, before teasing was replaced with a comfortable sense of togetherness, and their smiles faded, exchanged for matching serious expressions on each of their faces. They held each other's gaze for a few seconds, both thinking the same thing, yet unwilling to be the one to say it first. Eventually, Vaughn broke the silence.

"Syd, about last night..."

"It was a lovely dream," she finished for him, knowing just how to make the conversation easier on both of them.

"But that's all it is," he continued.

"For now," Sydney supplied, feeling as if they were sharing a sonnet like Romeo and Juliet at the Capulets' masked ball.

"Someday this will end, Sydney."

"Yeah, someday," she sighed, a little sadly. "Someday we'll go out for a pizza together, and go to that hockey game." She smiled at her own vision of the future, and hoped that it would not be a long time coming.

"No," he stated, and she looked up at him, startled. "No, Sydney. We've waited long enough for that." He reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out two tickets. He handed one to her. She looked at it, confused, and her face lit up. It was a ticket to a Kings game – for the next Saturday.

"We're really going?" she asked, excitement creeping into her voice.

"We really are. And we're sitting next to each other. It's not ideal; we'll still have to pretend that we've never met before, and we can't arrive or leave together, but it's something."

"It's more than just something, Vaughn." Her voice almost broke. "This is...It's a lot. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he grinned, and then noticed the tears that had started to fall down her cheeks. "Come here," he laughed, and pulled her into a hug, and she laughed too.

"I'll help you," he stated definitely, as she had been almost certain he would. "Anything you need, just ask. I...I can't come with you," he paused, remembering that time all those years ago when he had promised to give her everything she needed, had promised to take her away from it all and make the pain go away. "But just know that I'll do anything to keep you safe, anything at all. And in the mean time, don't give up hope."

"Vaughn, thank you. Thank you for everything," she cried, finally breaking down as the memory of hope for the future washed over her and the waves of reality crashed over her head, pulling her down into the salty depths of truth and holing her under while she blindly reached for the surface. He stood awkwardly above her as she sank to her knees, unsure of how to console her, if she even wanted him to. He dropped to the floor and pulled her to him, holding onto her as if he was the one in tears, cradling her against him as she curled up, holding so much pain in her tired body.

"Sydney, it'll be okay," he promised, aware that he was in no position to promise any such thing. "I won't let anyone hurt you. I'll take care of you." He felt a twinge of guilt that he was promising Sydney all the things he had promised Lauren on their wedding day, but it instantly passed away as he felt Sydney's body shaking in his arms with the force of her tears. He did his best to comfort her, realising that she just needed to cry, to let her grief and pain and worry be made physical beings in tears and sobs, and that the best thing he could do would be to simply hold her and be everything that he always had been for her; her friend, her comfort, and her guardian angel.

TBC...


End file.
